


Unexpectedly Expecting

by AbhorrentSelkie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Children of Characters, Explicit Sexual Content, FE3H Kinkmeme, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Sappy, Teen Pregnancy, They're both 17, Trans Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Trans Male Character, Underage Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but with a downer ending, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentSelkie/pseuds/AbhorrentSelkie
Summary: The weeks that followed were borderline torturous. Felix seemed to flat-out refuse to speak with Dimitri in any capacity, not even to spit vitriol and call him a boar or a beast. He sat as far from Dimitri as possible during their lessons and in the dining hall. In any other situation, if Dimitri entered a room, he would leave without even sparing him a glare as he went.To make matters worse, two weeks after laying with Felix, Dimitri realized he should have started his bleeding for the month, an unfortunate aspect of the anatomy he was born with. He tried not to panic; it would not have been the first time stress and worry delayed things – and he certainly carried those like weights around his neck over the past two weeks..Four weeks passed, and as their class began to prepare for their upcoming mission, Dimitri found himself preoccupied with an entirely different concern. He could no longer ignore the possibility. A mess of anxiety and fear, Dimitri was forced to consider the idea...-----Fill for FE3H Kink Meme
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	Unexpectedly Expecting

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Pre-timeskip Felix and Dimitri have unsafe sex and Dimitri ends up pregnant. I’d prefer no a/b/o or anything , Dimitri is just trans.
> 
> +it’s super early into the timeskip (like Rodrigue just arrived at Garreg Mach when they find out)
> 
> ++Dimitri doesn’t want to tell Felix at first because he still thinks Felix hates him but Sylvain talks him into telling him
> 
> +++RODRIGUE’S REACTION  
> \-----  
> Some possibly over-thought notes:
> 
> So, this is my first attempt at writing a trans character, I'm not sure if I did him justice or not, but I tried. There are slight references to body dysphoria. I tried to avoid afab terminology when possible, but there are some exceptions. There are direct references to his breasts, which are exclusively labeled as such. Given that the story is about pregnancy, there are a lot of references to him having a menstrual cycle, as well as pregnancy and pregnancy-related symptoms. I don't think any afab/amab terms are used for Dimitri's genitals (unless I accidentally used one and didn't catch it, and if I did, let me know so I can fix it), though there are references to his arousal causing him to be wet/slick. There is no explicit transphobia, but there is the implication that his pregnancy might be considered scandalous to the nobility/public, as well as people gossiping and talking about the pregnancy behind his back.
> 
> I really hope I did alright with this.
> 
> I also didn't expect this to be almost 8000 words, but here we are. The sex scene is not too terribly important, and can honestly be skipped if you don't want to read it; it ends at the first page break and there's no sex after that point. If you don't want to read it, all you really need to know is that they have impulsive sex.

Like many things with Felix, it began in the training hall. Night had long since fallen over the monastery, but Felix continued to train with an almost single-minded determination that Dimitri couldn’t help but admire. His movements were fluid, as graceful as they were lethal, leaving the prince helplessly enraptured as he watched from the door, frozen dead in his tracks. His insomnia brought him to the training hall to begin with, but thoughts of that fled from his mind as he watched Felix move.

Felix came to a stop, sword buried to the hilt in the chest of a training dummy, panting lightly from the exertion. “Are you going to stand there staring at me all night, Boar?” he huffed, not looking back at Dimitri, for which Dimitri was grateful because he could feel his face flush; he hadn’t realized he’d been caught staring. “What do you want?”

“I just came to train,” Dimitri managed, voice just a hair higher than he’d hoped.

“Then train.”

Swallowing hard, Dimitri moved slowly to the weapons rack, selecting a lance and testing the weight briefly. He could feel Felix’s eyes on the back of his head, the heated glare that never failed to – inexplicably – send heat pooling in his belly.

“Spar with me, Boar,” Felix demanded as soon as Dimitri turned with his weapon in hand.

And how could Dimitri deny him?

They took their spots opposite of each other, circling slowly. He could see the way Felix scrutinized him, amber eyes narrowed, looking for an opening. Seeming to find it, he lunged forward and Dimitri lifted his lance to parry the blow on instinct, steel clanging against steel. They trade blows for a time, each moving in a perfectly practiced dance of muscle-memory footwork and powerful attacks.

Despite Dimitri’s unnatural strength granted to him by his Crest, Felix had the advantage of his small, lithe build making him light and fast on his feet as he easily dodged Dimitri’s blows, skirting around his defenses and leaving Dimitri little time to counter his movements. They were on nearly equal footing, the by-product of spending their youths training together and learning the way each other moved.

Their chests were heaving, a light sheen of sweat clinging to them by the time Felix’s sword was knocked from his hand, clattering to the ground out of his reach. Dimitri expected their spar was over, then, lowering his spear and ready to commend Felix on his form when the swordsman leaped toward him with an outstretched fist. Even with no weapon in his hand, he didn’t seem inclined to let the fight end, resorting to brawling in an attempt to eek out a victory.

Dimitri narrowly avoided the fist that was aimed at his jaw, ducking to the side at the last second. Deeming the fight unfair with himself still armed, he cast his lance away, earning a sneer from Felix. “I don’t want your charity, Boar,” he hissed, kicking out at Dimitri’s knee and nearly sending him to the ground.

“Very well,” Dimitri allowed. If Felix wanted a fight, Dimitri would give him one. He lunged forward, grappling the swordsman, only somewhat holding back his strength – Felix would never forgive him if he thought Dimitri was going easy on him, after all. They wrestled for a time, Felix putting up an admirable fight against Dimitri’s overwhelming power.

It was the heat of their bodies pressed close together that distracted Dimitri… he hadn’t been so close to Felix since they were young, when the boy was clingy and affectionate, holding Dimitri’s hand and showering him with hugs at every opportunity.

Dimitri couldn’t quite place when he began thinking about Felix in a more… indecent manor. It was with shame – for what else could he feel when he so salaciously lusted after his dear friend who gave no indication that he shared such feelings? - that he touched himself alone in the dark, imagining it was Felix’s fingers on him, _in_ him. Would he call him ‘boar’ even as they coupled? Would the contempt his eyes be tempered by lust?

The heat in his belly flared white-hot as his mind wandered, and Felix took advantage of his distraction, unaware he was the cause; the next thing Dimitri knew, the air was being knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground hard, Felix pressed over top him.

Dimitri blinked, dazed for a moment. And, Goddess, Felix was resplendent above him. His hands held tight to Dimitri’s shoulders as if he could possibly hope to keep him in place despite Dimitri’s strength. His hair, at some point, had been knocked from its usual knot and flowed free around his shoulders, tousled, a few errant strands stuck to his forehead with sweat. His legs straddled Dimitri’s hips, right over where Dimitri felt like he was burning from the inside out.

Simply put, to an onlooker, it would seem that they were in a compromising position, like lovers in the throes of passion, breathless and flushed and so close together. Dimitri realized with no small amount of embarrassment that he was almost uncomfortably wet, his smalls clinging to his skin.

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to draw Felix down, to devour his lips, to run his fingers through the silky strands of hair that dangled so tantalizingly around him.

“You’re staring,” Felix accused, eyes narrowed. Dimitri noticed that the amber eyes he so adored were nearly black, swallowed by his blown pupils.

“So are you.”

Neither moved for a moment, some kind of silent, entrancing spell over them as they allowed themselves to stare. Felix shifted, and it was with some surprise that Dimitri noticed the bulge in the front of Felix’s trousers as it rubbed against him, drawing a soft gasp from the both of them. Tentatively, Dimitri reached up for him, winding a hand through his mess of dark hair. Felix didn’t jerk away, didn’t spit venom as he’d expected, and he let Dimitri pull him close.

His mind filled with haze as they kissed, Felix urging his lips apart and dipping his tongue inside Dimitri’s pliant mouth. He let his fingers wind into Felix’s hair as their tongues moved together, soft groans and gasps filling the silence around them.

At some point, Dimitri became aware of the way their hands roamed across each other, the way their hips were grinding together, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through him. If it weren’t for the press of Felix’s body against his, the way their lips moved, Dimitri may have been appalled by their uncouth behavior, rutting against each other in the dirt, in the training hall where anyone could walk in and see.

But, Goddess if it didn’t feel good, better than Dimitri had ever dared dream.

Felix’s lips pulled away from his, reeling back to look down at Dimitri, but still close enough Dimitri could feel the heat of his breath. His face was flushed in a way Dimitri had never seen it, and his fingers were curled tight in the fabric of Dimitri’s uniform. “Boar…” he muttered, a rough drag in his voice that made Dimitri’s chest flutter. “I-” He licked his lips, drawing in a deep breath. “Do you… do you want to…?” His voice faltered, and his eyes flicked down at the spot where their bodies met to get his point across.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dimitri breathed. Goddess, yes, he wanted. Wanted so much it was almost painful. His eyes darted over to the door, panic flaring in his chest. “But… n-not here.”

Nodding, Felix climbed off of Dimitri, clambered to his feet and offered his hand out to help Dimitri up. He threaded his fingers through Dimitri’s, holding on for dear life, as if Dimitri might disappear if he let go, and the two of them made haste back to the dorms. An electric charge seemed to crackle in the air around them as they hurried, eyes scrutinizing every shadow in the hopes that no one was around at such a late hour to see.

They passed no one and scampered up the stairs. The hallway seemed infinitely long, the floorboards squeaking like a tell-tale heart, threatening to alert all of their classmates to their intentions. Why did their rooms have to be at the very end of the hall?

They hesitated outside of Felix’s door. “Your room or mine?” Dimitri wondered, voice barely over a whisper.

Felix’s brow furrowed as he considered it. “If von Riegan hears, he’ll say something to me, and he won’t bother trying keep his voice down. If Sylvain hears, he’ll say something to you, but he’ll probably keep it private.”

Dimitri nodded, swallowing hard as the reality of what they were going to do settled over him. “My room it is,” he decided, resolute. They slipped inside unnoticed.

The second the door closed behind them, Felix had Dimitri pressed up against the wall, fingers twisted in his hair to draw him down for another kiss. Dimitri wrapped his arms around Felix’s waist, pulling him tight to his chest.

Perhap second, perhaps minutes later, the fingers left his hair and Felix broke the kiss, beginning to unbutton his vest with hands that trembled ever so slightly. A swell of panic rose in Dimitri. Of course he knew… laying together would involve removing their clothing, but as he glanced down at himself, he couldn’t help the anxiety that flared in his chest, hot and sickening.

“Hey,” Felix said gently, already shrugging out of his vest and letting it crumple to the floor. His eyes were soft, softer than Dimitri had seen them in years. “It’s alright.” He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And, with the kind tone of his voice, Dimitri couldn't help but believe him.

Drawing in a deep breath, Dimitri began to strip. The blue cape joined Felix’s vest on the floor, followed by his gauntlets and, after a final, brief hesitation, his jacket and undershirt. Felix watched him with hungry eyes as Dimitri bared himself, reaching out to trace the line of his abs with soft fingers.

Fingers that trailed up, stopping at the edge of the wrap that bound his breasts. “Can I…?” Swallowing hard, Dimitri nodded, and Felix gingerly removed the bindings, letting them spool in a pile on the floor with the rest of their clothing. The cool air on his nipples sent a shiver down his spine as Felix lightly cupped his breasts, calloused fingers slightly rough and scratchy on the tender skin.

Felix grabbed his hand once more and gently tugged Dimitri toward the bed, nudging him to sit, to lay back before climbing over top him, his legs straddling Dimitri’s hips, picking up where they’d left off in the training hall. Their kisses were less rabid than before, slower and deeper and more languid as they took the time to trace each other’s skin with their fingertips, bare chests pressed tight together.

Felix pulled away after a time, leaning back to untie the laces of Dimitri’s trousers. “Is this alright?” he asked, fingers hooked under the fabric, ready to tug them down.

“Yeah,” he breathed, lifting his hips to help Felix shimmy them down his legs. They landed gracelessly on the floor, and Felix’s pants followed quickly after. It was rather hard to see, darkness broken only by the pale moonlight that filtered through the windows, but Felix looked divine above him, bathed in the faint light. Dimitri ran his hands over the hard lines of his well-toned chest, reveling in the feel of his silky skin.

Felix leaned over him once more, this time trailing burning kisses down the column of Dimitri’s neck as a hand reached between their bodies, gliding lower and lower until his fingers reached the mess of blond curls between his legs.

Dimitri moaned, half-wrecked already, as the fingers rubbed at him gently, sending shock waves of pleasure wracking through his body. It felt so much better than his own fingers, made his arousal burn brighter in his belly. And when a slender finger pressed into his heat, already slick and pliant under his touch, Dimitri’s back arched off the bed.

One finger became two, then three, and Dimitri’s hips rocked against them with each pump, biting back wanton moans on the chance Sylvain was actually in his own room, trying to sleep for a change; he didn’t want to disturb him – or give him fodder to taunt Dimitri with in the morning.

Eventually, the fingers inside him slowed, and Felix kissed his way up to the spot right behind Dimitri’s ear. “Are you ready, or do you need more time?” he breathed, hot against Dimitri’s flushed skin.

Dimitri hesitated. Were they really about to do this? He’d wanted Felix for a long time, wanted him so much it seemed to ache at times. And wanted him to stop regarding Dimitri with such disdain as he’d done for the past two years. Had something changed? Or was it just opportunity that placed Felix between his legs, lust as opposed to affection?

Either way, Dimitri wanted it so badly, he would deal with the possibly emotional ramifications later, whatever they might be.

“I’m ready.”

Felix sat up once again, fingers withdrawing from Dimitri. He reached up as he moved between Dimitri’s parted legs, stroking himself slowly, smearing Dimitri’s slick along his length. Dimitri had little point of reference, but if he had to guess based on the obscene conversations with Sylvain he’d been too polite to shut down, Felix’s length was considerable.

With gentle hands, Felix spread Dimitri’s legs farther apart, settling between his thighs and lining himself up at Dimitri’s entrance. Slowly, he guided the head inside, eyes half-lidded as he sank into the tight heat of Dimitri’s body.

Dimitri’s fingers fisted into the sheet as Felix leaned back over him, arms bracketing his broad shoulders. He pushed gradually, pausing at each of Dimitri’s small gasps and sharp breaths. Dimitri urged him on each time. It wasn’t painful, per se, though the sensation of being spread so wide was unexpected, the feeling of being filled by something other than his own fingers foreign and exciting in equal measure.

After a time, Felix bottomed out and fell still, peppering Dimitri’s neck with kisses as he gave him time to adjust around his length. Dimitri breathed deeply, trying to relax, to grow accustom to the full feeling. “You… you can move,” he finally managed.

Felix rolled his hips slowly, pulling out and gently sliding back in, tentative as he got a feel for the motions. Dimitri’s arms wound around his shoulders of their own accord, drawing him close as their bodies moved together. The room filled with the sound of their pants and moans, the sound of skin against skin as the speed of Felix’s thrusts increased. Given that they were both virgins, it didn’t take long for them to reach their climax, Dimitri cresting with a loud cry, and Felix spending deep inside him as his walls clenched down around him.

Felix collapsed, boneless against Dimitri’s chest, content to just let himself be held, his softening length still buried in Dimitri. Once their breathing returned to normal, Felix pulled out slowly, eliciting a soft hiss from Dimitri at the bizarre sensation.

He stood, and for a moment, Dimitri was afraid he was simply going to dress himself and leave, the way Sylvain described doing countless times. Instead, he crossed the room on legs that shook slightly to the wash basin, dipping a clean rag in the water and returning to Dimitri. Gently, tenderly, he ran the rag between Dimitri’s legs, cleaning the combination of their messes before cleaning himself. He tossed the rag among Dimitri’s soiled laundry and, much to Dimitri’s relief, climbed back into the bed with him.

Dimitri drew the blanket over them and held him close, chest to back, reveling in the way he felt so perfect slotted into his arms. “Will you stay?” Dimitri dared to ask. “At least until dawn?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Fine.” Just like that, it was settled. Though the bed was very clearly not meant for two, they made the best of it, content to bask in the warmth of each other’s skin. Dimitri pressed soft kisses to Felix’s shoulders, drawing out contented sighs. For the first time in a very long time, Dimitri fell asleep with ease, nose nuzzled lightly in Felix’s silky hair, undisturbed by the nightmares that had long claimed him each night.

\-----

Dimitri’s arms were empty when he woke in the morning, and he peeled his eyes open, wincing a little in the watery morning light, to see Felix sitting on the edge of the bed. He was already redressed in his rumpled uniform from the night before, and was bent over lacing up his boots.

“Felix?” he muttered blearily, reaching out to touch him.

Felix slapped his hand away, tossing a glare over his shoulder that made Dimitri’s heart sink. “This was a mistake,” he huffed, returning to angrily tying his laces.

“I… I thought-”

“You thought wrong,” Felix cut him off, leaving no room in his tone for argument. He stood, pointedly scowling straight ahead. “I got caught up in the moment. Last night should have never happened.” Dimitri could feel himself crumbling with each step Felix took toward the door, each bitter word that he spat at him. “And it certainly won’t happen again.”

“Felix…”

“Boar.” Felix didn’t slam the door behind him – that would have drawn too much attention – but he may as well have. Dimitri slumped back against the pillow, staring abjectly up at the ceiling. He’d decided to deal with the emotional ramifications later… and it was certainly later. He hadn’t expected Felix to reject him so harshly, not after… not after reaching the point of joining Dimitri in his bed, not after spending the night in his arms.

 _This was a mistake_.

Was it something Dimitri had done? Was Dimitri not… satisfactory? Or did Felix know from the start that he was going to regret his decision and did it any way?

Dimitri sighed. As miserable as he felt, there was nothing to be done for it in the moment. If Felix didn’t want to talk about it – didn’t want to talk to _him_ – Dimitri would respect that. Perhaps, once they’d both had time to think about what had happened, Felix would be more willing to talk.

He stood, groaning slightly at the unexpected tenderness between his legs. Not exactly sore, more of a faint discomfort. With a fresh rag and a small bar of soap, Dimitri scrubbed away the layer of sweat from his skin, both from the spar and what had followed. Once clean, he dressed slowly, mechanically, dreading having to spend the day so close to Felix and pretending as if nothing had happened. Especially with the dull ache serving as a reminder with every slight movement he made.

When Dimitri arrived in the dining hall, still mostly empty given the early hour, Felix was noticeably absent which was both comforting and distressing. Perhaps he’d gone off to the training hall to sort through his feelings. Or, perhaps, he was simply avoiding Dimitri. It was impossible to say which.

To Dimitri’s surprise, he was joined as he ate by Sylvain. It was unusual for the redhead to be up so early, typically sleeping in right up until the last moment, leaving him only a few moments to grab some toast to eat as he hurried to class before the toll of the church bell. He grinned broadly, throwing an arm over Dimitri’s shoulder.

He knew that look. It was the look Sylvain always wore when he intended to pry into Dimitri’s personal affairs – particularly those of a romantic nature. Dimitri kept his eyes on his plate, already feeling his face flush.

“So, Your Highness,” he said, lips close to Dimitri’s ear, voice mercifully quiet. “It seems like you had a good night.”

“Please, Sylvain,” he huffed, shrugging his friend’s arm off. “I will not discuss such things at breakfast.” It wasn’t as if there was any use denying it; Sylvain clearly heard enough to have at least some idea what happened.

“Aw, come on,” he laughed, flashing a knowing smirk. “Don’t be so uptight.” Dimitri sighed, but didn’t dignify that with a response. “I’m happy for you, you know. I was worried you were so embarrassed by the thought of sex, you were going to remain celibate your whole life.”

“Sylvain!” Dimitri chided rather loudly, drawing the amused eyes of a few nearby students who quickly went back to their meals and conversations. Flushed and flustered, Dimitri schooled his voice back into a quieter volume. “Don’t say such crude things. It’s unbecoming.”

Sylvain rolled his eyes, having already heard that particular speech a few too many times. “So, who’s the lucky guy or gal who got to spend the night in Prince Dimitri’s bed?” he wondered, not put off in the slightest by Dimitri’s unwillingness to continue the conversation. Thoughts of the night before assaulted him unbidden: the way Felix had looked drenched in moonlight above him; the way his lips had felt against his skin, burning and all-consuming; the way it had felt as he moved inside Dimitri, soft moans tumbling from his lips unrestrained...

“I’m not going to answer that,” Dimitri told him flatly, doing his best to push the thoughts from his mind.

“Alright,” Sylvain relented. “I get it. You’re not the type to kiss and tell.” He clapped Dimitri on the shoulder, flashing an infuriating wink as he stood. “I hope for your sake your partner’s the same.”

Dimitri frowned. “I’ve no doubt about it.”

\-----

The weeks that followed were borderline torturous. Felix seemed to flat-out refuse to speak with Dimitri in any capacity, not even to spit vitriol and call him a boar or a beast. He sat as far from Dimitri as possible during their lessons and in the dining hall. In any other situation, if Dimitri entered a room, he would leave without even sparing him a glare as he went. 

To make matters worse, two weeks after laying with Felix, Dimitri realized he should have started his bleeding for the month, an unfortunate aspect of the anatomy he was born with. He tried not to panic; it would not have been the first time stress and worry delayed things – and he certainly carried those like weights around his neck over the past two weeks. It certainly didn't help that Dedue, far too observant when it came to Dimitri's mood, grew increasingly concerned about his well-being, constantly asking if he was feeling alright. As much as he appreciated the sentiment, it was quite suffocating.

Four weeks passed, and as their class began to prepare for their upcoming mission – recovering House Gautier’s Lance of Ruin from the disgraced Miklan Gautier, Sylvain’s own brother turned bandit – Dimitri found himself preoccupied with an entirely different concern.

After six long weeks, Dimitri could no longer ignore the possibility. He’d never gone so long without his cycle. A mess of anxiety and fear, Dimitri was forced to consider the idea: _Am I pregnant_? The thought alone was nearly enough to make Dimitri’s stomach flip.

Not sure where else to go, he turned to Sylvain. He hesitated outside his friend’s door late one evening, knowing full well he was inside – and _alone_ – as he’d been listening at his door to be sure. His fist wavered over the door for what felt like eternity before he finally plucked up the courage to knock. Sylvain answered only a moment later.

“Oh, Your Highness,” he greeted with his usual charming smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Dimitri hesitated. What did one even say in his situation? “May I come in?” he managed weakly.

Always in-tune to the moods of those around him, even if he liked to pretend otherwise, the smile quickly faded from Sylvain’s face, concern taking its place, and he stepped aside to let Dimitri pass. “Of course.” Dimitri shifted awkwardly in the middle of the floor; his constant state of anxiety over the past month left him feeling a bit like a frayed nerve, and the prospect of actually voicing his fears aloud to someone else was rather terrifying. “Have a seat,” Sylvain invited, gesturing broadly. Dimitri sank down on the edge of the bed, hands clasped tight together in front of him. “What’s on your mind, Your Highness?”

Dimitri didn’t speak immediately, and Sylvain waited patiently, dragging the desk chair over to sit across from him. “I… do you remember the conversation we had a few weeks ago?” he prompted. Sylvain cocked his head to the side; obviously, they’d had many conversations over the weeks, and Dimitri’s description was far too vague. “About how I… that is, myself and… we…”

“About how you got laid?”

Dimitri found he couldn’t be bothered to scold Sylvain for his crass speech, his stomach far too busy attempting to tie itself into knots to allow Dimitri to worry about such trivial things. “Yes,” he allowed.

“I remember,” Sylvain said when Dimitri said no more. “What, did you and your mystery lover break up?”

“We… we didn’t have a relationship to begin with,” he admitted, staring down at his lap. “We were together for only that night.”

“I see.” Sylvain stared at him evenly, though Dimitri could not meet his eyes. “So, what’s wrong?”

Dimitri bit his lip. The immature, childish part of his mind feared that saying it would make it real. Of course, it was quite possibly already very, very real, and not saying it wasn’t going to make it go away. He’d come so far already. “I… I’ve not bled since then.”

“Oh?” Sylvain blinked, then blinked again, eyes going wide as he did the math in his head and realization struck him. “Oh. Oooooh, shit.” Silence pressed over them, thick and oppressive. “Have you been to see Manuela yet?” Sylvain managed after a time, voice surprisingly even. Dimitri shook his head. “Well, that might be a good first step.”

“I will go see her in the morning, then.”

Sylvain studied him for a long moment. “Have you told the guy yet?”

“No.”

“You should probably talk to him, sooner rather than later, Your Highness.”

“I… I can’t do that.”

“Look, I know it’s going to be an uncomfortable conversation, but-”

“It’s not that,” Dimitri sighed, cutting him off. “It’s simply that he’s made it very clear he wants nothing further to do with me.”

Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck. “That was before there was potentially a baby involved.” Dimitri stared at his boots, unsure how to possibly begin explaining that he was sure nothing would change. “I think he deserves to know, and he deserves the chance to decide if he wants anything further to do with you for himself.”

“He said in no uncertain terms that… that he thought sleeping with me was a mistake he never should have made.” Dimitri blinked back the bitter tears that welled in the corners of his eyes.

“That’s awfully harsh,” Sylvain muttered. “Who was the jerk, anyway?” Dimitri swallowed, torn. Sylvain could keep a secret, if Dimitri asked him to, and he’d been longing to be able to talk to someone, _anyone_ about what had happened.

His voice was terribly small. “Felix.”

Sylvain blanched. “Wait, wait, wait,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You finally fucked Felix? And he said all stuff about it being a mistake?” Dimitri nodded glumly, the implications of Sylvain’s use of _finally_ going over his head in his dour mood. “Dimitri, you have to tell him.”

“How can I tell him?” he huffed. “He refuses speak to me now. Why would he want anything to do with a child we might share when he so clearly despises me?”

“Felix doesn’t despise you.”

“I disagree.”

“Have you _met_ Felix?” Sylvain snorted, though there was little humor in it. “If he hated you, he definitely never would have slept with you.” Dimitri opened his mouth to protest, but Sylvain cut him off. “No matter whatever bullshit he gave you to try and convince himself that he’s not into you, there’s no way you would have gotten anywhere close to fucking him if he hated you. He’s not the type of guy for hate sex.”

“His actions seem to suggest otherwise.”

“Come on, Your Highness,” Sylvain sighed. “You know he’s not the kind of guy to give up his feelings easily… not anymore. He’s too damn stubborn to admit that he doesn’t hate you as much as he’d like to pretend. The guy would cut off his nose to spite his face.”

Dimitri considered his words for a long moment. Sylvain was better at reading people than he was, after all. Perhaps he should trust his judgment. “I… I don’t think I can take it if he rejects me like that again,” he admitted, hand pressing over his belly. “Not now.”

Sylvain’s eyes were soft, sympathetic. “He deserves to know, Your Highness.”

\-----

Dimitri managed to evade Dedue long enough the next morning to slip into the infirmary without worrying his friend. His conversation with Maunela, who was already aware of the nature of Dimitri’s body by virtue of her position of the monastery’s head physician, was rather awkward as Dimitri was forced to explain his situation. Manuela, to her credit, didn’t seem all that fazed as she ran her fingers, aglow with soft white magic, over Dimitri’s stomach.

“You’d hardly be the first student – noble or otherwise – to leave the Officers Academy with an unexpected baby bump,” she joked, perhaps thinking it would put him at ease. It did not. “Though, you _may_ be the first prince…” Dimitri swallowed hard, not comforted in the slightest. “Look, it’s not the end of the world. A few stares and whispers, and an uncomfortable letter home.” And a child to care for afterward.

It was easy for her to say, though, he thought rather bitterly, holding his tongue. She wasn’t heir to a kingdom that was waiting for her to ascend the throne. She wasn’t highly scrutinized and held to lofty expectations by the simple virtue of her station of birth.

She wasn’t pregnant at seventeen.

Dimitri was.

Because _of course_ he was. Her magic left no room for doubt. He’d laid with another man for a grand total of _one_ time, the first time for both of them, and of course his seed took root inside him. People like Sylvain and Manuela could fornicate as often as they wished and luck or fate or the Goddess would favor them.

Though, Dimitri supposed he should have been used to not having the favor of luck and fate and the Goddess.

\-----

Though Dimitri had no appetite, he forced himself to eat in the days that followed. He was no longer eating just for himself, after all. He may not have been thrilled by the outcome, but the child that was forming inside him was an innocent bystander. He would do his best to ensure its health and safety. His stomach rolled with each unwelcome thought, thoughts of how his body was going to change, thoughts of how his _life_ was going to change.

He tried to bite back the swell of nausea, tried to convince himself he was just working himself up to the point of sickness; such a thing had been a common occurrence after the Tragedy.

But, no, it was different than that, he realized. Then, he’d learn to quell the queasy feeling by breathing deeply and thinking of other things. As he sat there, the nausea did not subside. He was going to vomit-

He made haste for the door, holding his stomach, trying not to draw attention to himself. He scarcely made it to the bushes that lined the courtyard outside of the dining hall before doubling over and emptying the contents of his stomach in the dirt in front of him. Manuela had told him to expect it, though he’d not been prepared for it to happen so soon. Nausea and vomiting… _morning sickness_ , as they called it.

“Boar?” Felix’s sharp voice called from behind him, and Dimitri froze, a foul combination of spit and bile still dripping off his lips where he stood, bent with his hands braced against his knees. “What’s wrong with you?” It was the first thing he’d said to Dimitri since that night, and perhaps it was merely wishful thinking that colored his voice with twinge of concern.

Dimitri managed a glance over his shoulder. Felix shifted awkwardly, arms crossed over his chest, looking like he’d rather be almost anywhere else. He didn’t look directly at Dimitri, eyes flicking between him and a point over his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he dismissed.

“That’s not what I asked.” Dimitri sighed, slowly straightening himself back up. The nausea had passed, which was fortunate, given the fact he had nothing left to cast out. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing at his lips. The bile seemed to coat his mouth, thick on tongue though he could not taste it. “Sylvain told me I should talk to you,” he reluctantly added. “Said you had something important to talk about.”

“Ah.” As much as he would have liked to be upset that Sylvain had taken matters into his own hand, perhaps it was for the best; Goddess only knew how long it would have taken Dimitri to do so for himself. “Could we perhaps return to my room to talk? I would rather not be overheard… and I would like to brush my teeth.”

Felix nodded stiffly, and the two headed in silence toward the dorms. As they walked, Dimitri couldn’t help but notice the way Felix’s shoulders tensed as his eyes darted around, scrutinizing every face they passed, as if expected to be jumped at any moment. “Is something the matter?” Dimitri couldn’t help but ask.

Felix scowled. “I’m hoping to avoid running into my father.”

“Your father is here?” Dimitri’s voice was dangerously close to a squeak. He hadn’t heard Rodrigue was visiting.

“He arrived earlier this evening, so I was told. Margrave Gautier sent him on his behalf to bring the Lance of Ruin back to Gautier after we recover it.” That made sense. The Margrave was very firmly of the school of thought that if a job could be handed off to someone else, there was no reason to concern himself with it. “I figure he’ll manage to track us down sooner or later,” he sighed.

They made it back to Dimitri’s dorm, blissfully unseen by Rodrigue. It was bad enough that Dimitri was going to have to have the conversation with Felix; the last thing he wanted was worrying about telling Felix’s father. Dimitri was still dreading sending a letter to his uncle, and he had no idea where to begin on writing it.

Felix took a seat at the desk chair as Dimitri brushed his teeth at the wash basin. He did so as slowly as he could, one final attempt to delay the inevitable. Once the slimy coat of bile was cleaned from his tongue and teeth, Dimitri popped a couple mint leaves in his mouth, out of habit more than anything. Others could still smell his breath, whether he could taste it or not.

“Well?” Felix huffed, fixing him with a frigid glare, arms crossed as they so often were. “Get on with it, boar.”

Feeling much the same as he did when he sat in a very similar spot in Sylvain’s room, Dimitri drew in a deep breath, trying to keep his thoughts in order. “I know you said the… the night we shared together was a mistake,” he began, carefully schooling his voice into a semblance of even.

Felix narrowed his hard, amber eyes. “I’m not talking about this,” he ground out, moving to stand.

“Wait!” Felix stilled, eyebrows arched in surprise at Dimitri’s rather uncharacteristic outburst. “Please, just listen to what I have to say.” Slowly, he settled back into his chair. Dimitri swallowed. “I am not asking you to reconsider, and I’m not asking for an explanation. But there is something you need to know.”

He eyed Dimitri wearily, as if worried he was falling into some trap. “Go on,” he prompted when Dimitri hesitated.

“I am… Felix, I am pregnant.”

A litany of subtle emotions passed over Felix’s face, slight twitches of his expressions that were nearly imperceptible as he processed Dimitri’s words. His eyes flicked from Dimitri’s face down to his torso and back, as if he could see through his skin to tell for himself. “Are you serious?”

“I would not lie about such things.”

“How long have you known?”

“I’ve suspected for several weeks,” he admitted. “I only just found out for sure a few days ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Dimitri was surprised at the anger he heard there; perhaps he’d been wrong in assuming Felix would want nothing to do with their child. Felix stood, then, pacing across the floor anxiously, running a hand through his hair and knocking the knot loose. “You’ve just been holding onto this by yourself?”

“You were quite adamant that you wanted nothing further to do with me,” Dimitri reminded him. “You wouldn’t even speak to me.” Felix continued pacing, slowly back and forth, occasionally stopping to glance at Dimitri, looking like he wanted to say something but thinking better of it, just to continue pacing. “I thought you hated me.”

That stopped Felix dead in his tracks and he rounded on Dimitri. “I slept with you and you thought I hated you?”

“You said it was a mistake.”

Before Dimitri could process what was happening, Felix descended on him, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him forward into a crushing kiss. Dimitri was rather more confused than he’d been before when Felix broke the kiss, finally meeting his eyes dead on and holding his gaze with an intensity that only Felix could muster. “It was a mistake because you’re going to have to take some nobleman’s daughter as your wife when you’re king, and the longer we pine after each other, the more painful that’s going to be. For both of us.”

Dimitri was dumbfounded. _That_ was why Felix was so cold to him, so ill-tempered and rude? _The guy would cut off his nose to spite his face_ , Sylvain had said. “I believe that is the least of our concerns right now,” Dimitri laughed lightly, cupping Felix’s face. The swordsman didn’t pull away, which made Dimitri’s heart flutter. “Besides, I have no interest in some nobleman’s daughter.”

Felix kissed him again, softer, sweeter. A tentative hand pressed gently against his stomach; before long, it would begin to swell as their child grew inside him. While the thought still filled him with dread, perhaps it wouldn’t be quite so bad with Felix by his side.

An insistent pounding on the door startled them apart. “Your Highness,” the familiar voice of Rodrigue called from the other side, urgent and slightly muffled by the wood. “I know you are in there. We must speak.”

Dimitri and Felix shared a look, and Dimitri had no doubt he was as pink as Felix was. With a heavy sigh, Felix slumped back in his chair and gestured for Dimitri to just get on with it, quickly retying the hair he’d knocked loose. “You may enter,” Dimitri called, hoping his voice was not as shaky as it sounded to his own ears.

Rodrigue stepped inside a moment later, surprise coloring his eyes as he took note of his son’s presence. “Felix, I’ve been looking for you as well,” he said, “but for the time being, I must speak to His Highness alone.”

“Oh, no need for all of that,” Dimitri dismissed; the last thing he wanted in that moment was for Felix to leave him, however briefly. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Felix.”

Rodrigue pursed his lips. “I’m afraid you may not feel the same once you know what I wish to speak out, Your Highness,” he said delicately. “While it was not my intent to pry, I couldn’t help but overhear a conversation between Manuela and Seteth about your… condition.”

“Ah.” Dimitri felt his cheeks flush. So much for confidentiality concerning his medical affairs. “Well, in that case, there’s no need for worry. Felix already knows.” In the chair, Felix scowled at the floor.

“Very well,” Rodrigue relented. “How could you be so irresponsible, Your Highness?” It was the dreaded ‘father voice’ Dimitri was all too familiar with, having heard it far too many times to count in his childhood, usually when Sylvain dragged the rest of them into trouble. “You are only seventeen, scarcely more than a child yourself. Not to mention, the Crown Prince of Faerghus. Do you have any idea the scandal it will cause when people learn their prince is with child?”

Dimitri hung his head. There was nothing the man could say that Dimitri had not already tormented himself thinking about. “I made a rash decision,” he sighed. “Clearly, there is nothing I can do about it now. It was careless of me, but no amount of scolding is going to change anything.”

Rodrigue sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And what of the father?”

Dimitri dared a glance at Felix from under his eyelashes. Felix seemed at war with himself, teeth gritted, fingers clenched tightly around his forearms. Slowly, he offered a small, curt wave at his father.

Rodrigue looked slowly between the two of them, gobsmacked. “Felix…” He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, trying to reconcile Dimitri’s pregnancy with the fact that his son was the one who impregnated him. Once he recovered from his momentary shock, the lecture began anew, the man droning on and on about responsibility and propriety and the consequences of ones actions.

Dimitri thought it might never end. Is that how Sylvain felt, every time he and Ingrid ganged up on him with a lecture on his way of chasing skirts? If so, Dimitri wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scold his friend again.

As quickly as it began, the lecture ended, Rodrigue deeply drawing in air as if the whole speech had been delivered in a single breath. He looked between them once again, his face rather softer than it had been before, and his hand fell lightly on Felix’s shoulder. Much to all of their surprise, Felix didn’t immediately shake it off, and he didn’t stop his father from leaning down and wrapping him in a hug.

He muttered something Dimitri couldn’t quite make out into his son’s ear before turning to Dimitri, giving him a tight squeeze as well that felt like the most comforting thing in the world to the apprehensive boy. “We will figure this out, Your Highness,” he assured him softly, “try not to worry too much.”

\-----

The months that followed were a struggle. Dimitri was unable to keep his pregnancy a secret for very long, what with his frequent need to excuse himself – whether to vomit or to relieve himself – the fact that his breasts quickly became too tender to bind without discomfort, and the very noticeable way his belly quickly began to grow.

He was more often than not in a foul or somber mood, unable to sleep or eat without difficulty, everything ached, and the whispers that followed him around like a plague only served to further the growing disdain for his changing body. He hated the way it looked, the way it felt, the way it would not move correctly as he tried to maintain his training. Even the way Dedue doted over him like a mother hen grated at his nerves, though he knew it came from a place of kindness and caring.

The bright spot in it all was Felix’s affection, though it was often not freely given. He had become fiercely protective of Dimitri, glowering at and intimidating anyone who dared to make rude jokes or snide comments in their vicinity. When they were alone, Felix would kiss him softly, soothe his aching muscles with gentle touches, even indulge in the occasional musing of what their child would be like.

And when Felix whispered a soft _I love you_ in Dimitri's ear as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms late one night, Dimitri finally felt like things might not be too bad, in the end.

\-----

While Felix had been apprehensive about the child he and Dimitri would soon have, he couldn’t help the tightness in his chest whenever he saw the swell of Dimitri’s belly, the way his heart jumped as the baby inside kicked against his hand. While Felix was unsure what the future would look like, it couldn’t be all bad, right?

He was proven very wrong when the world flipped upside down as Edelgard declared war against the Church, against the rest of Fódlan. Despite being seven months pregnant and in no condition for the battlefield, not hell nor high water nor the Goddess herself could have stopped Dimitri from fighting when Adrestian soldiers launched their assault on the monastery.

He fought like a man depraved, like the beast Felix had seen when they were sent to quell that rebellion two years after the Tragedy, tearing through their enemies like a one-man battalion and leaving a trail of human viscera in his wake. It was all the more terrifying, seeing him do it with his swollen stomach clad in armor to protect the unborn life it contained.

But the battle was lost, the church driven away from the monastery by Edelgard’s overwhelming force. Dimitri headed back to Fhirdiad, dejected and half-crazed with a thirst for vengeance against Edelgard and Felix was forced to return to Fraldarius.

Letters came from the capital nearly every day, keeping Felix up to date about Dimitri’s well-being and the state of his pregnancy. Though Felix wished he could abandon his responsibilities and join him, the war kept him from being there for the birth of his son.

Glenn Lambert Blaiddyd was born on the 28th of the Lone Moon in the year 1181 at a generous nine pound and four ounces with tufts of dark hair and beautiful blue eyes, bearing a minor Crest of Blaiddyd. Letters continued to pour in with the news of their son’s progress, of Dimitri’s worries and apprehension, of his wishes that Felix would soon be able to join his love and meet baby Glenn.

The letters stopped abruptly five moons later.

Felix grew more anxious by the day, reading and rereading each letter, trying to find some clue as to why Dimitri had stopped writing. Two weeks passed in anxious waiting, and Felix was about to drop everything and head to Fhirdiad when his son arrived at Castle Fraldarius in the arms of a wet nurse, guarded by a band of mercenaries.

The news reached them three days later: Regent Rufus Blaiddyd had been assassinated, and Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was put to death for the crime of regicide.


End file.
